My Cowboy
by VividInfinity
Summary: My name is Sarah Jacobs. I'm not who you think I am. I am not who anyone thinks I am. This is my story, and about the things that happened to me after the strike. It's not as simple as it sounds. Not with the newsies.
1. Intro To My Life

December 20th, 1899

My name is Sarah Jacobs. I'm seventeen. You all know what I look like. I work at a factory near the Bowery, and I pass through it every day on my way to work, and on my way back. My mother gave me this for my seventeenth birthday, but I never used it. So I will now.

I've worked at the factory since Pa got hurt. It never healed right, and they wouldn't hire him. I dropped out of school to work. I was almost done, anyway. But Pa wouldn't let Les or David drop out. So instead, they sell the afternoon paper, but it doesn't bring in much money. Ma takes in sewing and laundry, and Pa works at whatever he can find, but it isn't enough.

So I work.

The factory is dreadful. But I haven't got a choice. So every weekday and Saturday, I get up at seven, and I go to the factory.

Today, when I got out around four, I headed straight for the Lodging House where my boyfriend, Jack Kelly, lives.

You know him, I know you do.

He's amazing, better than anything I could hope for. And now that I have a boyfriend, the men mostly stop pestering me.

Jack wasn't there when I got to the Lodging House. Instead, David and Les were there, and David's girlfriend.

I don't like her. She and David started dating a while ago, after the strike. Her name is Havoc. She's a Spanish girl, an immigrant, who speaks with an accent. Straight off the boat when she was nine or ten. She's a beauty, alright, in a very Spanish way. She has this dark auburn hair, and dark eyes. Her skin is pale, and flawless. She's a newsie, but she's got a mean streak. She likes David, though, I genuinely believe that or I would have kicked her the first time I met her.

David, who changed during the strike, was kissing Havoc when I came in. Les and Boots were counting their coins on Boots' bunk. Newsies were all over the room.

"Sarah!" A girl shrieked. "Your _hair_!" For a newsie, Genie can be very girly. She's blonde and blue-eyed, and not the sharpest knife in the drawer. But she means well, and Kid Blink loves her. She's my friend. She joined the newsies a few months after the strike, around May or June. She attacked me, smoothing my hair.

I laughed a bit. "Genie, my hair is fine," I told her, pulling her hands off me. "I just got back from the factory, that's why it's all weird."

"Why do you work at dat place?" A voice asked in my ear, slipping arms around my waist. Cowboy kissed my neck.

"I haven't got a choice, Jack." I said, turning my head to look at him. I smiled. "It's better than working for old Ms. Jenkins." Ms. Jenkins runs the brothel by the Brooklyn Bridge.

Jack smiled, and kissed me.

"You two want a room?" Havoc offered, pulling David past us. Her thick Spanish accent confused me for a moment, as always.

"Well, you was makin' out earlier, weren't you'se?" Jack asked.

Havoc scowled at him. David didn't even notice.

"Hey Race," I called. The Italian looked up, a cigar in his mouth.

"Yeah, gohgeous?" He asked. "Somethin' fer me?"

"There's a party tomorrow night. The factory owner's wife is hosting it. Jill wants to know if you'll take her." Jill is my friend. Irish. Red hair, green eyes, the works. She likes Race, and Race likes her, but Jill is too shy, and Race won't ask her out.

Race smirked. "Shoah. Eight?"

I nodded. I looked at Cowboy. "Come with me?"

He nodded, and smiled.

Then he kissed me.

"Didn't I tell you to get a room?" Havoc would have snapped, but she was mid-kiss with David as well.

Ma's coming. I'll write more later.

**Later; around nine**

Jack took me out, and we walked in Central Park for a while. Jack held my hand as we walked, and we watched the mothers play with their children, the newsies peddle their papers, the kids swordfight with branches.

Gentlemen walked in pairs, having conversations about business. A group of girls I used to go to school with passed us, giggling. They didn't even notice me.

"Whatcha thinkin' bout?" Jack asked me.

"I wish right now could last forever." I said, almost wistfully. "No work, no bills to pay at home, no school for David and Les. Nothing, just here and now."

"Well, I can't make it last forever," Jack said, stopping. "But I can make you 'member it."

He kissed me, and I kissed him back.

I love my Cowboy.

'**Kay, 'kay, people!**

**Whaddaya think?**

**Yeah, yeah, I know she's a Mary Sue! Sort of the point. Don't get me wrong, I hate her as much as anybody. She's too hard to swallow, with the doilies and the 'what is this' with the hot dog, and the 'punches the wall' and the 'stupid ape' and shit like that, but she's easy to write about.**

**Plus, I had the inspiration for this in English class, and you **_**know**_** I can't resist English class fanfic prompts. They're just too juicy.**

**This will get better, don't worry. Just wanted a mushy moment to set the tone for the whole story.**

**Note: I'm changing Sarah drastically. She had virtually **_**no**_** character in the movie, just a person, so I'm giving her a personality.**

**Hope you like!**


	2. The Party

**December 22****nd****, 1899**

It's around nine. I'm writing this now, about the things that happened yesterday.

At eight, Jack came by to pick me up.

He wore his usual clothes, but they were clean instead of spattered with mud and dirt. His hair was combed fresh, and his cowboy hat hung down his back, like always.

"'Llo Mrs. Jacobs." He said politely when Ma opened the door.

Ma smiled. She likes Cowboy. "Hello Jack. Won't you come in?" She stepped aside, holding the door open, and Jack stepped in.

I whirled back to the mirror, and reviewed myself one last time.

I wasn't wearing a corset, because I had for years, so I could take a break every now and then. Instead of a white dress, I wore a deep blue skirt with a white blouse. The blue skirt reached to my ankles, something Ma would approve of. The blouse wasn't something Ma had picked out, or knew I had it. It was something my friend Anita gave to me. It scooped low in front, but not low enough so that Ma would freak. Just enough to show a little chest. As long as I didn't lean over, Ma wouldn't protest. No, the real problem was the sleeves and the back. The back scooped dangerously low by Ma's standards. Halfway down my back. And the sleeves, well, they were lace, the kind that tore easily. Ma would _hate_ those. My heels were my best, my white ones. My hair was curled, and hanging loose around my shoulders.

But the outfit passed Ma's silent inspection, and she shooed us out the door, kissing my cheek, and warning Jack to bring me back soon, because I had work to do the next day. Jack knew that 'soon' meant before midnight. Ma and Pa are very lenient that way.

David had left earlier, to meet Havoc somewhere.

Les was already in bed; Ma had made him.

So there were no worries as Jack and I walked through the streets of Manhattan.

Even in the Bowery, when a girl is walking with a guy, she's considered untouchable by most.

The night was beautiful. The moon was full, the stars were already out. The December night was freezing, but I didn't mind. Walking with my hand in Jack's, I felt warmer than I ever had before.

Behind the factory, Mrs. Owens, the factory owner's wife, had cleared out a warehouse that was used for the fabrics we made in the factory.

The warehouse would have been dismal, but with so many people, it was lively. Out of crates and planks of wood, a stage had been erected at one end of the warehouse. A few doors to the side led to an office upstairs that would be where business was sorted out, but the doors were abandoned now. The warehouse lights were on, and people were already dancing. Some people sang on the stage, and played music. Irish music.

Along another wall, a long table held food and drinks. Mrs. Owen had thoughtfully decided to abandon the warehouse, before she got kicked out. The drinks table was stocked with everything from water to beer.

Jack grabbed a beer, and led me out onto the dance floor.

That night was wonderful.

I drank more alcohol than I've ever consumed in my whole life. I danced until my feet hurt, then I gathered my skirts and my heels in one hand, and I danced some more.

The beer stung my insides, but it tasted so good. All the people around me were as drunk as I was. Mr. Owens had better be prepared for a lot of hung over girls the next day at work.

I spotted Racetrack whirling a laughing Jill around on the dance floor, and a few other people I knew. Anita, and Jolene, and a few others.

Still Jack and I danced on.

But around eleven, Jack and I took a break from dancing. Our bodies heaving with panting, we leaned against the wall, next to the doors that led to the offices.

I took a long drink of beer, and dropped my heels on the ground.

"Not gonna dance more?" Jack asked, taking a long drink from a bottle.

I shook my head vehemently. "Too tired." I took a long drink, too.

My dress felt warm. There were too many people. I rested my head on Jack's shoulder.

I don't remember most of the rest of the night.

I remember that some people played spin the bottle, others danced and drank. Some gambled, some played poker, and a few girls dragged their drunk dates into the offices, grinning evilly.

Ma says when Jack brought me back, I was fast asleep, nestled in his arms. The next day, I was so hung over, Ma sent David to tell Mr. Owens I wouldn't be going to work that day because I was sick.

I spent the day at home, helping Ma when my head didn't hurt too much.


	3. I Get Drunk

**December 24****th****, 1899, Christmas Eve**

Merry Christmas!

I have lots to tell.

When I got off of work today from the factory, I headed straight for the lodging house.

It was freezing, but I didn't mind. The sky overhead looked like it might snow, but it hadn't snowed in New York in ages.

Jack was waiting for me.

He held my hand as we walked into the Lodging House.

"Medda's havin' a Christmas party," My Cowboy told me. "Come wit' me? I went to dat party at da factory."

I smiled up at him, and gave him a kiss. "'Course I'll come. Tomorrow, then?" I asked.

He nodded. "Pick you up at eight."

I kissed him again, and Havoc shoved past me, like always, mumbling, "Get a room!"

I grinned at her. "Merry Christmas to you, too, Havoc."

She gave me a wicked grin, and threw a pape in my face. I was grinning, and I didn't even move, because I knew what would happen, and Cowboy caught the pape in midair.

"Havoc, that wasn't nice." David said.

Havoc gave him a kiss. "Merry Christmas, David."

I guess the Christmas spirit even applies to bitches.

**December 26****th****, 1899,**

I woke up on Christmas Day to the sound of Les jumping on my bed.

"Wake up, wake up, wake _up_, Sarah! It's Christmas!" He hit me with my own pillow, and scrambled away to get my parents up.

David walked into my room, moaning.

"He get you, too?" I demanded, burying my head in my pillow.

"He threw water on me." David said, and left the room. A moment later I heard Les shriek for David to _get up_, not go back to sleep!

God, that kid needs to sleep. Knowing him, he'll conk out around seven now that he's up and running at dawn.

But he got us up and running, and we found that underneath the small tree Pa'd gotten, were five presents.

Les grabbed his, shrieking and whooping.

When he opened it, I felt like going back to bed.

Someone, I'm guessing Jack or David or maybe even Spot, had gotten the kid a slingshot and a bag of marbles. Damn it! We will walk around bruised until he wears it out.

Immediately, Les put a marble to his slingshot, but Ma shrieked, "Not in the house!" And he moped, but put the marble back in his pouch.

Then Ma opened hers. David and I had put some money together to buy her enough cloth for a new dress, for which she thanked us and kissed us each on the cheek.

For Pa, we got him a new pair of boots. We knew his were wearing thin. Pa thanked us profusely, and we told him it was nothing.

David got something that Denton had pitched in with to buy. He'd bought the frame. There, framed, were three papers. One was the newspaper we'd printed. One was the newspaper article from the Sun, and the last paper was the picture from the Sun, cut out and signed by every newsie in the picture.

When David handed me my gift, he told me, "Jack helped pick it out." I looked at him. He smiled, and I opened the box.

It was a necklace. Nothing fancy, just a gold chain with a simple stone on it. The stone was reddish and sparkling, nothing special. Just quartz, but I loved it.

I gave Ma a hug, because Ma had helped pay for it, and I gave David a hug, because David had come up with the idea. And I locked it in my mind to give my Cowboy a great big kiss, once my parents couldn't see me anymore, of course.

We spent the day playing. Pa set up a couple old beer bottles on the fire escape, and we helped Les practice shooting them with his new slingshot. David and I spent an hour debating where to hang his gift. Ma wanted to make me a new dress, and I spent another half hour arguing with her in a good-naturedly way, because it was _her_ present, to make a dress for _herself_. Then I spent fifteen minutes turning this way and that, trying on my new necklace in front of the mirror.

Then, Ma and I spent a good two hours deciding what I should wear for the Christmas party. Ma told me that if I felt very sick at Medda's, I should stay with her, and come home in the morning. She trusted me to be a good girl.

Havoc left near seven-thirty, to pick up Havoc for Medda's party.

Around eight, the fire escape was littered with broken glass, that Pa made Les promise to clean up the next day.

Jack came for me, with a handful of roses for Ma, who blushed and put them in a bowl on the table.

I came out, wearing my necklace.

I was wearing a red dress. In Ma's eyes, it was worse than what I'd worn to Mrs. Owens' party. The hemline, for one, was a good deal higher. It barely reached my knees. The neckline was a good inch or two lower, showing off more chest. But, since I was only going to Medda's, Ma let me wear it. For one thing, the sleeves were solid cloth instead of lace, and they reached to my elbows. The shawl was green, and I wore the white heels I'd worn to the party at the factory warehouse.

My hair wasn't curled, only washed and dried and brushed. But it hung so beautifully, so long and straight down my back, that I felt beautiful.

Around my neck, I wore Jack and Ma and David's gift, the red necklace.

"How do I look?" I asked Jack, twirling for him and Ma.

He and Ma said the same thing. "Beautiful." Ma said it proudly. Jack said it like he was in love, which, I hope, he is and was.

"Young man," Ma told Jack sternly, her eyes twinkling with mirth. "I want her home by midnight, unless she gets very sick. If she is very sick, I want you to leave her with Medda, and tell Medda to take care of her, you understand me, Jack Kelly?"

"Yes'm." He said, nodding like he was talking to a great lady.

I giggled.

Ma shooed us out the door. "Off with you, now. Go have a good time!"

Jack and I ran outside laughing.

Once we were outside, and out of sight of Ma and Pa and possibly Les, I wrapped my arms around my Cowboy, and I kissed him.

"Wha' was that for?" He asked after.

"For the necklace." I said. I kissed him again. "That one was because I love you."

"Oh, I knew _that_." Jack smiled at me, and slipped my hand in his. Looking at each other, we smiled. Then, after a moment, we burst into laughter.

Jack and I ran all the way to Medda's.

The party had started without us, apparently.

Racetrack yelled as we entered. "Cowboy! Where ya been?"

Everyone looked up, and yelled their greetings.

Newsies from Manhattan and Brooklyn had appeared, as well as a few choice newsies from all around, including Queens.

I saw Mush flirting with a Queens girl who looked like you could snap her in two, but in her belt was a knife that looked like she could slice you in two with.

See what I mean?

The party was very much like the factory party, except that the newsies really know how to party. Spin the bottle started much sooner, the dancing got wilder, all that fun stuff. My resolution not to drink was broken almost immediately, when I grabbed a bottle of beer.

Before I knew it, it was drunk as _hell_, which is saying something because even at the factory party, I was not drunk as _hell_, just drunk enough that my happy place swirled around me like a tornado and made me dizzy.

Before long, Jack and I joined a game of spin the bottle.

I could give you a whole lot of who-kissed-who and who-got-seven-minutes-in-heaven-with-who, but all I will say is this.

I got seven minutes in heaven with my Cowboy.

I won't spoil it with the ins and outs, but I will say that I was glad David wasn't there when they opened the door again.

Later, near the end of the party when some of the wet blankets were going home, I went backstage with Jack.

We just walked with our hands together and with our free hands holding drinks.

Somehow, I'm not exactly sure how since I didn't remember this part too much, I ended up on my back in a dressing room somewhere, with my skirts around my waist again.

I was drunk. Drunker than I've ever been. If this is what I do when I'm drunk, I'm not getting drunk again until I'm happily married! I suppose it was just a miracle I didn't do this at the factory party with all my friends watching.

I remember that even though it was a bit cold in the room, we were both sweating. Half from drink . . . half from _it_.

God, I can't even say it. I am _such_ a wimp.

Anyway, I woke up to find my dress rumpled, and the neckline torn. My chest was exposed, but I hadn't seemed to care.

My shawl lay somewhere in the room. I was curled up against Cowboy, whose arm was wrapped around me.

And there Medda stood, painting her nails, looking at us with one eyebrow raised.

"Enjoy ourselves, did we?" She drawled.

As we scrambled to our feet to protest, and found ourselves unable to balance properly, she held up a hand.

"Don't worry. I won't tell. You kids are grown up enough to drink yourselves drunk enough to screw." She looked at us with amusement in her eyes. "Oh, look at the two of you. Leading strikes and getting drunk. They grow up so fast." She left, calling after her. "Only four in the morning. You still have time." She shut the door.

I felt myself blush. I felt terrible. I was hung over, like _seriously_ hung over. I couldn't balance, I couldn't think, I couldn't seem to work right. My head hurt.

But I looked up at Cowboy.

"She's right, you know." He said, and I wrapped myself around him. I kissed him, and one thing led to another.

Before I knew it, I was on the floor again.

Oh God. See, _this_ is what happens when you get drunk. Or at least, when _I_ get drunk.

Anyway, the next time I woke up, I found that Jack was gone, and that someone, Jill or Anita probably, had brought me a dress.

So, despite my headache, I changed, sat down, and began to repair my red dress.

When I was confident that I could wear it without it tearing itself open, I put it back on. I noticed that though I had kicked my shoes off and tossed away my shawl, I still wore my necklace.

But I soon found it was around nine. My parents would be frantic.

So I ran home straight away, and found Ma waiting.

She didn't seem worried, or angry, or sad. She was just waiting.

"Hungry?" She asked, sliding a plate towards me.

I sat down like a good girl, as if I hadn't gotten drunk enough to screw my boyfriend, and I ate.

**Author's Note: I told you I was going to alter her character drastically!**

**You have been warned.**

**Hope you likey!**


	4. Well, That Was Lovely

**December 28****th****, 1899**

Today, after the factory, I went to the lodging house, like always. I had to talk to Cowboy.

But only Havoc was there, with David, and they were talking quietly.

"Is Jack here?" I asked.

"No," Havoc told me, glaring. "He's not here." Her Spanish accent was starting to annoy me.

I glared back at her. "Well then where is he?"

"Is that really any of your beeswax?" Havoc demanded, getting up. Apparently she was hormonal, because she was starting to get on my nerves.

"Yes it is, Spic." I said angrily, setting down my bag.

Havoc snapped somewhere inside, and advanced. "I'm Spanish, _gringa_! _Puta vida, pero todos creen que soy de Puerto Rico! Soy Española, gringa! No soy Latina! Entiende eso si puedes, estupida!_" She began to curse at me in Spanish.

"That's enough," David tried to say, but I pushed him away.

"Every day I come here and every day I have to put up with you and your ridiculous accent and your bitchiness!" I accused.

"You're not exactly a barrel of monkeys either, _gringa_!" Havoc spat at me, her hands on her hips.

"But I'm not a bitch to everyone!" I yelled.

"_Abre tus ojos! Crèes que eres perfecta? No, por supuesto que no! Eres una niña mala, con corazon de un gallo!_ _Pero ¿sabes qué? Estoy harto y cansado de usted, y todo tus quejas! Yo estoy aqui sin quejarme, y ahi estas en esa puta factoria, y te quejas todo el dia! Pues es mas frio afuera, señora!_"

"I don't understand one fucking word you're saying!" I yelled. "You've hated me since you came here and I've _tried_ to be civil, and all you do is insult me!"

"You have never once tried to be civil to me!" Havoc yelled. "You've thought me a _sanguijuela_ ever since you got here, but guess what? _Eres una putana, una zorra!_"

David grabbed her as she lunged for me. But there was no one to hold me back.

I lunged for her, and David jumped back as I tackled her. I punched her, and she slapped me. I reared back, but she had the advantage. She was about my height, but she wore pants.

She yelled at me in Spanish as we attacked each other, until someone grabbed me. But we both got in a few good blows first.

"Get Havoc!" Race yelled, pulling me off her. I had been mid-punch when Race pulled me away, saving me from a black eye.

"Bitch!" Havoc screamed at me. "_Putana!_"

"Spic!" I yelled, and David grabbed Havoc as she lunged.

"Sarah!" Genie yelled, scandalized. She stepped between us, and helped David restrain Havoc.

Race and Snitch hauled me back. "I don't s'pose you two could handle this like propah broads?" Race demanded.

"Not with _that_!" Havoc yelled. She meant me. She had a mean scratch on her face, and I felt the beginnings of a bruise on my neck.

Someone, my Cowboy, ordered. "Havoc, leave off."

Race let me go and Jack helped me up. I looked up at Jack. He looked at my bruise. He kissed me and told me, "You'll live."

"_Me gustaria que no lo haria!_" Havoc spat at me.

"Davey?" Jack said. "You mind?"

David nodded, and kissed Havoc. That bought me enough time to escape with Jack.

"Where were you?" I demanded. "Havoc screamed at me it wasn't any of my business where you were."

"I was still sellin', Sarah, relax," Jack assured me. He wrapped his hands around my waist, and kissed me. "Better?" He asked me when we came up for breath.

"I little," I admitted. "But I still feel slightly murderous."

"I can respect that." Jack told me, and I giggled. He looked at me. "You know, you're real pretty aftah a fight."

"I doubt it." I told him. "I feel like badgers have made their nest in my hair."

"I don't think badgers make nests."

"No, they have burrows." I argued. "But it's a den either way, and I don't want badgers in my hair."

"Well then it's a good thing your hair looks nothing like a badger's den." Jack kissed my forehead.

"You want a room?" Havoc demanded, storming past us. Some things never change.

"You want a black eye?" Jack and I demanded at the same time.

"I will pass, thank you, _jefe_." Havoc told Jack, and told me, "Good-bye, _putana_."

Call me crazy, but that sounds like an insult. So I tried to lunge, and Jack grabbed my arm.

So instead I smiled sweetly and told Havoc, "Good-bye, Spic."

Yeah, I'm a grown up girl and I can be a bitch if I want to.

**Author's Note: Sooooo? Whaddaya think? I know I've been kinda AWOL/ MIA, but its not my fault! My mom decided my computer was screwing up my life, so she took it away. It's only cuz I'm doing hw that she let me have it back this once. So, I'm gonna write as much as I can when I don't have homework, and update then.**

**Sorry, my life is going screwy on electronics right now.**

**But please, read and review! REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!**

**Disclaimer: Nobody's mine, except Havoc and Genie**

**Luv my Fansies! Sorry, I'm on some sort of writing adrenaline, so I'm going spazzy. I'm lucky I wrote this chapter a while ago, so I didn't totally screw it up with my spazziness.**


	5. Too Short

**Angel: Cookie?**

**Me: Um, shouldn't you be in the Maximum Ride archive?**

**Angel: No. *bites cookie***

**Me: And . . . why?**

**Angel: Max sent me. *bites cookie again***

**Me: Um, okay? **

**Angel: I'm not crazy.**

**Me: I never said you were.**

**Angel: But you were thinking it.**

**Me: No I wasn't.**

**Angel: Yuh-huh, ya did. Max sent me to say the disclaimer. But I'm not gonna say it.**

**Me: Why not?**

**Angel: Because Total hasn't gotten here yet, and he'd get mad if he didn't say it.**

**Me: So **_**Max**_** sent **_**you**_** to the Newsies archive so that **_**Total**_** could say the disclaimer?**

**Angel: *rolls eyes* Amateur. *bites cookie***

**Total: Angelkins! Who's that?**

**Me: I'm Lucy Conlon. You're Total?**

**Total: I think that's obvious. After all, do you know any **_**other**_** talking flying mutant dogs?**

**Me: Um . . . no, I can't say that I do.**

**Total: Good for you, your life is relatively normal.**

**Angel: Here, Total, have a cookie.**

**Total: *munches cookie* Omigod, Angel! This is amazing! Where'd you get them?**

**Angel: Dr. Martinez made them for us. She said we should have it.**

**Me: Um, you were going to say the disclaimer?**

**Total: I was, but I want another cookie. *Angel hands him a cookie***

**Me: Oh, Jesus Christ . . .**

**Angel: **_**I'll**_** say it.**

**Me: Then what was the point of the dog?**

**Total: The dog? **_**The dog**_**?**

**Angel: *While I console the flying talking mutant dog* Newsies does not belong to Lucy Conlon. Only Havoc and Genie belong to Lucy Conlon. Oh, and anything else you don't recognize. Lucy, was that alright?**

**Me: Gimme cookie.**

**December 30****th**** 2012**

Today was mostly normal.

Jill and Anita went their way after work, and I went to the lodging house.

Racetrack's found himself a girl, a girl that's an inch or two taller than him, and I get the feeling he's only interested in her _body_ if you get what I mean. The girl's name is Piper, and she seems cool with it. I guess she wants the same thing.

Genie sold well today, so she bought me a pretzel, and we walked together through Manhattan, and talked.

Jack and David got into a friendly argument, something about letting me wander over half of New York. I told them I was my own person and I would go wherever the hell I wanted to. That settled it.

I forgot to tell you all. A few months ago, we learned that Mrs. Owens is pregnant again, her fourth. I sometimes make extra money babysitting her kids when their parents are busy. The two girls and the boy are excited about the new baby. They hope it's a girl. Well, the girls hope it's a daughter. The boy thinks it's another lad. I agree. Mrs. Owens is carrying all in front. Ma says that means it's a boy.

Genie and Kid Blink are happier than ever. Even Havoc seems to be in a good mood, which is sort of strange. David really loves her.

I bought Tumbler and Boots and Blanket each a stick of candy, and they all thanked me profusely. Then they each pitched in a penny or two, and got me one. I laughed, and thanked them.

Life is alright. At least, nothing too bad to report.

Well, a few things are bad.

Pa's got a new job. That's not what's bad. What's bad is that I know who he works for. A man called Mr. Jameson. Mr. Jameson is mean. Real mean. But the job Pa got pays well, and it won't hurt his arm too much, so I supposed I'll just have to pretend I like Mr. Jameson.

Gossip came from Brooklyn that Spot's not happy with one of his newsies. I will pray for that unfortunate soul.

And today, Les beaned Skittery with his slingshot, and got chased around half of Central Park for it.

But, all in all, the day was alright. I guess, it wasn't too bad. Pa found a job, I got candy, Racetrack has a girl, I guess the Christmas spirit is kicking in right about now.

A little late, maybe, but better late than never, I guess.

**Yeah, I know, a bit too short and too crappy for such a long wait, but I'll do better next chapter.**

**Also, how do you like my disclaimer?**

**I know, I know, you're freaked out by the voices in my head, but Angel's like that. She can project her thoughts in others' minds. It's pretty sick, actually.**

**Anywho, read, review, enjoy, all that fun stuff!**

**Love you all!**


	6. New Year's

**Me: Okay, so . . .**

**Nawat: Hello Lucy**

**Me: *Jumps three feet into air* **_**Nawat**_**? What are you doing here?**

**Nawat: Queen Dove told me I was supposed to say the disclaimer.**

**Me: AWWWW! Is that Ochobai?**

**Nawat: *nods***

**Me: Ooooooooooh! Can I hold her?**

**Nawat: *nods* be careful.**

**Me: *takes adorable baby and squeals over its adorable-ness* She's so gosh-darned **_**cute**_**!**

**Nawat: Lucy Conlon does not own Newsies, or Daughter of the Lioness. She does, however, own the characters she made up. *looks to me and Ochobai***

**Me: Can I keep her?**

**Nawat: *-_-* No**

**Me: Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuudge!**

**Ochobai: *WAIL***

**Me & Nawat: *-_-***

**December 31****st**** 1899, New Year's Eve**

It's near midnight now. We're at Medda's place, all of us. Even the little kids and the older kids, and there's no alcohol. I'm perfectly fine with that.

I brought my diary so I could write everything down.

Well, Racetrack and Piper are still dancing. Have been since around ten thirty. Havoc and David quit dancing around eleven, but Genie and Blink are still going strong. Jack has a bet that Genie lasts longer than Piper.

Boots and Blanket and Tumbler are teaching Les how to spit. Normally I would object, but they're not drinking or smoking or anything, so since it's New Year's Eve, I think it's alright.

I have to go.

**January 1****st****, 1900, New Year's Day**

It's not only a new year, now it's a new century!

Some people say that this century will be bad luck, and that the world will end this century, which I think it rubbish considering people have said this forever. The world will end next year, the world will end the next, you know. But it hasn't ended yet, so I don't think it will.

Anyway, I invited Jill and Anita to Medda's for the party, and Jill nearly fainted dead away when she saw Racetrack and Piper together.

Instead, because she's stubborn like that, she began to dance with Bumlets, then Skittery, then Mush, until she'd danced at least two dances with every available newsie.

Anita and I stared at her. I introduced Anita to Spot Conlon, and they quickly began a conversation about territorial disputes, or something much less scientific-sounding.

Medda somehow got me into a dress like she wears, though a bit more demure, thank heaven. It was pink, and a bit too short, but the sleeves were long and solid, and it whooshed around my legs so prettily that I couldn't complain.

As the clock chimed twelve o'clock midnight, Jack kissed me, Kid Blink kissed Genie, you get the picture. Except, after Racetrack kissed Piper, Jill slapped him, and stormed off.

So this evening has been very interesting.

I have to go now. Blink and Racetrack are starting a game of spin-the-bottle. I'll write more later, once we get home.

**Later . . . .**

It's evening. After spin-the-bottle, we played Truth or Dare, and a whole bunch of other things. We went home around five in the morning.

When we got back home, Les literally fell right into bed. Ma interrogated me for a while, to make sure I hadn't had any liquor, and then sent me to bed.

I woke up after noon. I'm used to little sleep, so it was alright. Ma made a cake, and we ate, celebrating the new year.

Since there was no work today, I went straight to the lodging house.

Racetrack, who had snuck in a few beers, was drunk and sleeping it off, his arm around Piper, who flashed a grin at me when I entered the room.

Jill and Anita were there, talking with the boys. Havoc was trying to teach David Spanish, which was, in my opinion, a hopeless cause. But that's just me. Les was teaching Boots and Blanket and Tumbler his school lessons, because they wanted to learn.

But he wasn't doing a good job of it, unfortunately.

That will be one thing I hope to do this year; teach Boots and Blanket and Tumbler to read and write well, and how to do sums better than just adding and subtracting.

So I took Les's book, and I sat him and Tumbler to my left, and Blanket and Boots to my right. And I began to teach them to read like proper schoolkids.

They're smart children. Boots and Blanket knew how to read the basics already, though they weren't very good. Tumbler didn't know at all how to read, but he was a quick learner, and he knew the alphabet and the sounds and the letters and the way the words were fit together.

So between me and Les—and Genie when she came over to help—we began to teach those kids to read and write.

Later, when we stopped, it was around three in the afternoon.

I talked to Jack for a while. He still wants to go to Santa Fe.

If he does, I want to go with him, but I'm worried. What about Ma and Pa, and David and Les? And the newies? And my friends?

Anyway, he doesn't have enough money, but he will soon. In the meantime, life is alright.

Havoc is on some kind of mood swing, because she snapped at me earlier, but was all honey later on. She's been acting a little bit different lately. I mean, she was always weird, but now it just shows.

Well, Genie and Blink are happy, and so are Piper and Racetrack. Not Jill, because she's falling over herself with jealousy. Anita left earlier to go to Brooklyn to see Spot.

I'm writing this as I dictate it for the boys, so I can show them how I write. Boots complains he can't read my writing, because it's ornate. Well, the word he used was _complicated_, so I tell him to be quiet, because it's my diary and I can write how I like, and that it's good for him to learn to read different kinds of writing.

He pouts.

**HOW DOST THOU LIKEY?**

**Read, review, enjoy, you know the drill.**

**Anywho, tell me if you like the thing where different characters present the disclaimer! I know I do, it's so much fun to write!**


	7. Maria

***Characters arguing***

**Me: ATTENTION EVERYONE!**

***Everyone shuts up***

**Me: I would like to tell you all about something very bad in the world.**

**Max: *Yawns in boredom* Well, I can tell you that the Doomsday group is trying to kill all the humans in the world.**

***Everyone begins talking***

**Me: SHUT IT!**

***Everyone shuts it***

**Me: *sighs* Okay. What I wanted to tell you about is this man called Joseph Kony.**

**Angel: He's the bad guy, right? *bites cookie***

***I smack my forehead***

**Me: Of course he's the bad guy. Now gimme a cookie. *I snatch cookie* He's in Uganda right now, and he's abducting children. He's been doing this for twenty-nine years.**

**Dr. Martinez: That's **_**awful**_**!**

**Me: No duh. The International Criminal Court has a list of criminals, and he's at the top.**

**Max: What for?**

**Fang: *crosses arms* Crimes of murder, rape, abduction, sexual slavery, stuff like that.**

**Max: You knew about this?**

***Fang shrugs***

**Max: And you didn't **_**tell**_** me?**

**Me: **_**The point**_** is that we need to stop him.**

**Fang: And **_**how**_** do you suppose we do that?**

**Gazzy: Ooh! I know! We could drop, like, a bomb on—**

**Me & Max: No.**

**Gazzy: *T_T***

**Me: All we need to do is make sure that everyone knows about him.**

**Max: Your point being . . . ?**

**Me: *Groans in frustration* Okay. See this headband? *Points to headband***

**Everyone: Yup.**

**Me: What does it say?**

**Angel: It says **_**KONY 2012**_** *bites cookie***

**Me: Exactly. I wore this headband today and yesterday, and now loads more people know about it.**

**Max: I don't **_**do**_** headbands.**

**Me: Well, you can do a whole bunch of other stuff. I sent everyone the news. Facebook, Twitter, texts, emails, phone calls, everything. There's a video on YouTube; I'll put the link on my profile. And I put it up on my blog; I'll put the link for **_**that**_** in my profile as well.**

**Max: What, you just **_**know**_** about Kony and that makes it all better?**

**Me: *sighs* It's a little more complicated than that. But yes, that's the general idea.**

**Dr. Martinez: Explain, please.**

**Me: The US government sent a group of 100 military experts to Uganda to help train troops there, and to find Kony. But the government still retains the right to cancel the mission and withdraw those troops from Uganda.**

**Susan: So?**

**Max: When did you guys get here?**

**Edmund: Oh, we've been here the whole time.**

**Lucy: I think that Kony is a **_**horrible**_** person!**

**Me: **_**ANYWAY**_**, Barack Obama only sent those people because the public demanded it. If the US government thinks that not enough people know or care about arresting Kony, then they'll cancel the mission.**

**Max: So we need something really big. Something that can tell everyone about Kony.**

**Me: *nods* I know. KONY 2012 is the campaign to get Kony arrested **_**this year**_**. In order to do that, we need to spread the word.**

**Peter: We've been over this—**

**Me: I'm not **_**finished**_** yet, Your Kingliness!**

***Other characters snicker***

**Me: On April 20****th****, at sundown, people all over the world will meet. That's when we cover the night. We blanket every street of every city and town and neighborhood that we can reach with posters, banners, flyers, and stickers. The world will have gone to bed on Friday, and will wake up to a KONY 2012 world.**

**Max: Yeah, tiny problem.**

**Angel: There is the whole, not-enough-people-care thing.**

**Me: That's why we need to spread the message. **_**Tell**_** everyone. You guys go all over the world, go spread the word. Tell people, tell **_**everyone**_** about this.**

***Flock nods to each other***

**Susan: What about us? What can we do?**

**Me: Go back to your own archive. Tell every author there that they have to spread the word. Shoot an arrow with a message attached, or something like that. Spread the word, and save these kids. You guys got that?**

***nods all around***

**Me: Now gimme cookie *grabs cookie from Angel***

**Author's Note: Okay, so I hope you guys like how I explained KONY 2012. Everyone, help us! Help Uganda! Help the world! Help these kids!**

**Disclaimer: Newsies, Maximum Ride, Chronicles of Narnia, all not mine. Anything you don't recognize, mine.**

**January 8****th****, 1900**

I'm sorry I haven't written in while, but things have been busy.

Pa's job is paying well, and Les is doing well in school.

I found out, though, that David dropped out of school. Instead, he's been selling papes in the morning and the afternoon.

He made me promise not to tell, so I can't.

Les is getting better with his slingshot. Piper and Racetrack are still together, though now Piper and Jill are friends. I asked her about it, and she told me, "If it can't be me, might as well be her." She has a point.

Almost every day after work, Anita's disappeared to Brooklyn. I think to see Spot, but I don't know for sure. I remember she once mentioned to me that she has family in Brooklyn.

The boys are coming along well. Les and Genie and I have been teaching them nearly every day how to read, and they're learning fast. As soon as they can write well, and read well, we're going to teach them sums.

I caught Blink the other day in Central Park. He was talking with a girl, and I was suspicious, because the girl wasn't Genie. But then he gave her some money, and she gave him a necklace, and I knew he was buying something for Genie. He gave it to her today. It's a pretty necklace, nothing expensive, with a green-ish pendant.

Today after work I went to the lodging house like always. David and Havoc were talking in hushed voices, so I just walked right past him.

Jack greeted me with a grin. "Just in time for poker!" He said. He was at this table, with Racetrack and Skittery and Mush and Blink. Poker.

There's this thing that the guys do. When they play real poker, with money and cigars and chips and everything, they get their sweethearts to sit on their laps, for luck.

So I sat on his lap, like Piper sat on Racetrack's, and like Genie sat on Blink's. Skittery and Mush didn't have anyone on their laps, but that didn't seem to faze them.

With me on his lap, Jack won lots of money from Racetrack, who either always loses or always wins.

Jack won fifty cents from the other boys today. Eventually, the other boys learned their lesson and gave up.

Jack then pocketed his money, and I stood up. He stood, and kissed me. I smiled, and Piper winked at me.

Genie shooed away the littler boys, who were gaping at me.

Havoc and David came back inside, and Havoc told Jack, "_Jefe_, Conlon is coming." She didn't even bother with me.

Jack and I ran outside. So did nearly everyone else. The little kids, though, stayed inside.

Conlon was storming forward, silver eyes blazing. He gripped the arm of a girl who looked like she'd run through Brooklyn naked, in that she was beaten black and blue, her clothes were torn, and she had a black eye. She was Hispanic, I could tell from her dark hair and eyes, and her dusky tan skin. She had a newsie cap in one hand, and her extensive hair was dirty and ragged.

Jack crossed his arms. "Spot, you bettah have a reason to've soaked a broad."

Conlon stopped short before him, but instead of the normal spit-and-shake that would have been a newsie greeting, he just glared at everyone.

"_No me tocas!"_ The girl shrieked in Spanish as Conlon tightened his grip.

"Me newsies caught 'er round the 'Hattan bordah." Conlon said, ignoring the girl. She couldn't have been more than thirteen or fourteen. "Said 'er name is Maria."

"Your point?" Jack demanded.

"I could 'er on da Brooklyn Bridge," Spot insisted. "An' she was disguised as a boy. Me newsies t'ought she was an intruder, an' soaked 'er."

"And you're bringing her to _me_?" Jack demanded incredulously.

"You've _got_ broads in 'Hattan," Conlon said, and shoved Maria at us. Havoc caught her as Marai cursed in Spanish, calling Spot all sorts of bad names. "I can't leave 'er in Brooklyn."

Maria said something in Spanish.

Havoc translated this as, "She can't understand you, but she knows you're talking about you. And she wants you to go jump off the Brooklyn Bridge."

Conlon looked at Jack as if that proved his point.

Havoc and Genie and Piper and I took Maria inside as the boys continued to talk.

"_Ven,_" Havoc told Maria. "_Te traeremos ropa nueva_,"

Genie went to explain to the younger boys who Maria was, and Havoc and Piper disappeared into the girls' room, to look for clothes for the Hispanic girl.

"Do you speak English?" I asked Maria.

Maria shrugged. "A leetul," she said in a heavy accent. And I thought _Havoc_ had a heavy accent.

"Where are you from?" I asked.

"Colombia," Maria said. "My perrents died, and brohtherr and me came to United States."

"Where did you learn English?" I asked, grabbing a brush from where Genie had left it after a bit of primping.

"I live in _Mexico_ for two yearr." Maria said. "Brohtherr live in Harlem."

"Is he still out there?"

Maria shrugged. "He join gang, and I not seen him since."

I pulled the brush through her thick hair. "Do you miss him?"

Maria's voice went quiet. "Evehree day."

"Couldn't you visit him?"

"I try. Gang _jefe_ try to stab me."

Havoc came back with an armful of clothes and said, "You need a nickname,"

Maria peered at her. She didn't understand.

Havoc understood. "_Un apodo._"

Maria nodded. "How do I get a neekname?"

"I think something along the lines of 'Spic.'" Piper muttered. Maria smiled, because she knew it was a joke, though she might have only understood one word. Havoc, though, glared at Piper.

"_No le dices nada,_" Maria said before Havoc could open her mouth. "_No era con mal intento_,"

Well, apparently the Spanish and the Hispanic are very different.

"_Esperanza_," Maria said. I don't know what it means, but Havoc nodded.

Piper smiled.

"I like it," Genie announced, and I smiled.

"Anza for short?" I asked, and Maria's brows furrowed in confusion.

"Short?" She held her hand out, palm down, like she was measuring height.

"_No,_" Havoc explained. "_Porque es mas facil, te llamaremos Anza. Esta bien?_"

Maria smiled, and nodded. It's not a traditional newsie name, I guess, but it's a nice name. Well, maybe it's a traditional newsie name in Spanish, but not in English.

Jack came back inside, and told us that Maria would stay in Manhattan, at least for a little while. We told him her new name. He agreed, it's a pretty name.

But I ran outside to catch up with Conlon.

"Spot!" I called.

He was walking away, towards the Brooklyn Bridge. HE turned when he heard me.

"Yeah, doll?" He asked.

"Don't call me that," I said as I slowed to a stop.

"Can I 'elp you?" He asked, one eyebrow raised.

"Have you seen Anita lately?" I asked. "She disappears sometimes, and she says she goes to Brooklyn."

Conlon looked at me. "Maybe I've seen 'er, maybe I 'aven't. Eidah way, it ain't yer bidness, is it?"

"She's my friend," I argued. "It _is_ my business."

Spot glared at me for one more moment before saying, "I seen 'er once or twice. Don' tell 'er I told you, else I'll have to shut her up once she comes rantin' an' ravin'." And with that he was gone.

Anita hasn't been to Brooklyn?

Or, maybe she has and Spot isn't telling. I don't know what to think. Normally, I would as Anita's aunt, which is who she lives with, but her aunt is really mean, and she probably wouldn't tell me anything even if she did know something.

More later. Ma's coming.

**So? Whaddaya think? It's mostly just the beginning of drama; I'll get to the actual drama later on.**

**Also, help support the KONY 2012 campaign: Joseph Kony and his crimes **_**must**_** be stopped, for the good of Uganda and the world.**

**That these crimes have been committed right under our noses only makes it worse.**

**Save the world, one problem at a time.**

**Make Kony Famous.**

**Make Him Visible.**

**Stop at Nothing.**

**Fight for Justice for Uganda's Children.**

**We are Shaping Human History.**

**-Lucy Conlon, Fanfiction author, proud supporter of the KONY 2012 campaign and the Invisible Children Inc.**

**What You Do or Do Not Do Will Forever Change the World**


End file.
